


Packs Stick Together

by isaytheenay



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaytheenay/pseuds/isaytheenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt from tumblr: RemyLogan. Charles calls Remy in for a favour, and he and Logan cross paths again for the first time since the Island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Packs Stick Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrinceSircastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSircastic/gifts).



Remy wasn’t sure what to expect when Charles invited him up to the mansion. It had been two years since they’d first seen one another at the Island; they never exchanged words, but Remy knew who Charles was, and he knew that whatever task he had in mind was mutant-related. He rode up to the school on his motorbike, leading it into the automatically opening garage. He was momentarily surprised to see another bike inside next to the cars, but he shrugged it off, parking his own bike beside it.

People didn’t seem too alarmed at his appearance; sure, a few kids stared up at him, likely at his eyes, but he had grown used to it over the years. For now, he stuffed his hands in the deep pockets of his coat, fumbled with a deck of cards in his right pocket, and stood idly in the main room, wondering if Charles would meet him out front. He felt a strong urge to pull out a cigarette after a few minutes passed, but he managed to put aside the urge, telling himself it’d be a good reward for later, after this was all over.

Charles approached him after another five minutes, and Remy straightened up, giving a small bow. “Professor.”

He smiled warmly up at him. “I’m glad you could make it in such good time, Remy. Thank you for coming.”

“De pleasure’s Remy’s.” He returned his smiled, then rocked back on his heels, wondering if he wanted to get right down to business. He knew Charles wouldn’t be able to see what he was thinking; after all, if he’d wanted to get in contact with him sooner, he’d  have just used to telepathic ability, wouldn’t he? “So, uh… mind Remy askin’ what you’ve called him up fo’?”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re wondering,” Charles said. Remy frowned a little at his tone; it seemed dark, somewhat grim, too. “You see, when we first saw one another, you had made sure that the children had escaped the Three Mile Island safely.” Remy felt himself pale a little; already, he knew where this was going. “Yet you declined to join us. There was another mutant on the Island, named Logan. He lost all of his memories and struggles to recall who he was before that fateful day. I had hoped that you possibly could give Logan some answers.”

Remy didn’t move for a good minute; of course he knew Logan. Hell, they’d only known each other one night and Remy thought of him as a close friend. But now, Logan didn’t have a single idea who he was after Remy found him laying on the ground with a bullet wound to the forehead. They went their separate ways shortly after, something Remy deeply regretted.

“Oui,” he finally replied. “Remy could help wit’ dat.” He averted his gaze away from Charles, not necessarily wanting to see that smile on his face; he only meant well, but Remy wasn’t sure if he wanted to revisit that past. Not if Logan wouldn’t be able to remember any of it.

“Well, if you wish to see him, he is doing simulations in the Danger Room. That’s like a practice room. You are more than welcome to watch; it’ll be down the hall there, and to the left. It’s not hard to miss. Also, if you wish to stay a little longer, you are welcome to ask Ororo for a guest room.”

“Ororo?” Remy looked shocked; he’d met her when she was much younger, and of course that was years ago. Still Remy had always been fond of her. “She’s here?”

Charles smiled knowingly. “Yes, she has been here for quite some time. I know she’ll be more than willing to help you out. After all, she was the one who helped me get in touch with you. Now, if you’ll kindly excuse me, I have to teach some students of my own. It was a pleasure meeting you officially, Remy, and I’m grateful you could do this.”

Remy nodded, hesitantly, and took the directions Charles gave him. The Danger Room was pretty obvious to see as Charles had said. The doors were locked and there was a viewing window where people could watch what was happening. Remy looked down, and the moment his eyes found Logan, a pain radiated in his chest and throughout his body; a pain he hadn’t experienced in a long time, but felt like pouring salt into a fresh wound. All the same, there was a subtle elating feeling as well. Logan was here, in the mansion, and Charles had placed his faith in him to get some of his memories back.

Perhaps he’d ask Ororo about that room.

\-----

When Remy and Logan first ‘met’ the next morning, Logan had trudged into the kitchen, automatically asking what was for breakfast. Remy didn’t realize what kind of affect simply hearing him talking with have, but he nearly excused himself to leave. Hearing him after all that time managed to get to him, make his heart clench yet beat even faster than before. He took a long drink of coffee, trying to appear nonchalant to the others. Logan had stopped after taking a few steps into the kitchen, looking around curiously. Remy – who was sat at the table, keeping to himself – didn’t try and meet his gaze.

“There a new student?” He looked around and his eyes landed on Remy. Of course. His Cajun scent wasn’t that easy to ignore.

“Not quite,” Ororo said with a smile. “This is Remy. Remy LeBeau?” She looked at Logan expectantly, who grunted and turned, grabbing a plate. Ororo smiled apologetically at Remy, who picked up his playing deck and shuffled the cards idly, ignoring the searing pain in his heart. “You’ve met before, remember?”

“Oh yeah?” Logan asked, though he still didn’t face Remy. “When was that?”

“De Island.”

A few other mutants around the table froze, and Remy looked directly into Logan’s back. He didn’t move that much, still dishing up breakfast, but his shoulders seemed rigid. “The Island, huh?” He turned, pulling out the chair directly across from Remy. A few of the kids around them seemed to have either lost their appetites or were finishing quickly, leaving the table one by one. “First memories I’ve got.”

“Oui. De professor asked Remy to come here since he t’inks he may know some t’ings about you dat you may not know about yo’self.”

Logan didn’t seem too phased by what he said. Maybe he heard things like this all the time? “Really. So, what, did I help you escape? A few kids here told me that I got them outta their cages. Not really news to me anymore, bub.”

“Non,” he set his deck down, speaking clearly. “Remy’s de one dat got you to de Island in de first place.”

That got his attention. He nearly dropped the fork he was holding, swallowing his food down and sitting upright in his chair. His eyes bored into Remy’s, as if searching for something. “… You got me there?”

“Oui.” Remy said simply, shuffling his deck again. “Remy met you de night befo’ dat. After he blew you t’rough de wall, o’ course.”

He frowned. “Why the hell did you do that?”

Remy raised an eyebrow at him, barely resisting a smirk. “Sometimes, you still ask even de mos’ obvious questions, mon ami.”

Logan grumbled, muttering something beneath his breath and started eating again. “So, what, we met and you took me to the Island? That’s it? Doesn’t seem like much to go on.”

“You’d be surprised. Remy’s good at makin’ people talk if he can figure out how.”

“That so…” Logan took a bite of a piece of bacon. “And how’d you make me talk?”

Finally, he let himself grin mischievously. “Perhaps dat’s a conversation to be kept behind closed doors.” He snorted when Logan choked on the bacon.

“Y-yeah,” Logan said in a low voice, looking around anxiously. Beside Remy, Ororo was smirking. “Perhaps.”

Remy’s smile faded, not sure that it was the reaction he was hoping for. Logan seemed embarrassed by the knowledge of what Remy implied. Did that mean he didn’t like the idea of that happening? Even with his memories lost – and Remy could forgive it on most occasions – this time it hurt terribly to think about Logan having an aversion towards them doing such a thing. He cleared his throat and finished his coffee in a few gulps. “Well, when yo’ free, don’ hesitate to stop by Remy’s room. He’s staying in one o’ dose guest rooms de professor keeps on dis floor.” Remy stood from the table and thanked Ororo for the drink, rinsing out the mug in the sink before quickly slipping out of the room. He didn’t catch the confusion and slight concern in Logan’s eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t the sharpest, but he wasn’t an idiot to not notice how Remy’s demeanor had instantly changed.

When Logan did visit, Remy was sat in his bed, playing a card game with himself, his back hunched over and his eyes focused. His hair was loose and draping over his back and shoulders, and he’d discarded his coat as well, which was folded delicately over the chair adjacent to the bed.  Logan walked inside quietly, standing in the middle of the open floor a little awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“S’pose Remy ought to ask what you wanna know,” Remy said, sliding a few cards over the sheets, then taking a stack in one hand and setting it aside. It looked like solitaire from where Logan was standing. “But you don’ really know dat, do you?”

Logan shook his head. Remy made a thoughtful face at the cards, then brought them all together, ending the game entirely. He put them back into a neat pile and stowed them on the bedside table, sliding back on the bed. Patting the space in front of him, Remy invited Logan to join him.

“Didn’t have to end the game, y’know,” Logan said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I could’ve come later.”

“An’ Remy can always play later. Now sit.” He looked at Logan expectantly, patting the empty space again, this time more firmly. Logan joined him obediently, sitting cross legged, while Remy let one leg dangle off the bed. “Guess he’ll start from de beginnin’…” he said after a minute, and he did just that.

He told Logan how he’d come into the bar, offered a measly seventeen bucks (to which Logan laughed, and it made Remy’s heart flutter a little), and Remy proceeded to blast him through the wall like he said earlier. He explained how the tags had reminded him of Victor Creed, the man Logan said he was determined to kill, and how he’d been taken to the island by him and was convinced Logan was going to do the same. He briefly went over their fight in the alley and said that Logan was a fierce fighter (Logan protested and said he still is, damnit), and Remy enjoyed their fight. Then, he recited Logan’s promise, letting it sink in. Logan nodded slowly, and Remy could tell that he was hoping it would trigger something else in him. Unfortunately, there was no sign of anything.

“Right, so we fight… then what?”

Remy shrugged, skirting around the subject. “Den we found a motel, stayed de night, and left de next afternoon. Had to wait until it was dark again befo’ takin’ off into de sky. It was already ‘roud t’ree o’clock dat night, so figured a decent night’s rest would be fo’ de best. O’ course, you weren’ happy about it.” He smiled at Logan, who laughed softly. The same laugh he’d given at the Island, when Remy had saved him from the falling cement that had broken off the nuclear reactor. God, he’d really missed that laugh.

“I’m not a patient man,” Logan said finally, and Remy nodded.

“Ain’ dat de trut’,” Remy said softly, this time not thinking about Logan’s irritation at not being able to fly soon enough, but instead about how quickly Logan dragged him into the room and threw him down on the bed, making quick work of the time they had. He sighed softly, tracing the patterns on the bed with his finger. Even sitting here just thinking about it with Logan in the room made a small shiver travel down his spine. Still, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t get that back anytime soon.

Logan finally looked up at Remy curiously, wondering what the subtle shift in his scent meant. He tried not to think about it too much, but he did have a hunch about what it was, and somehow he recognized it all too well. He shook his head, figuring he could ask some questions of his own. “So… what happened in that time at the motel?”

Remy looked up at him innocently. “What do you mean?”

“Y’know, that’s like a whole day’s worth of time. You can’t tell me we sat there in silence the whole time. Plus, you said you got me to talk, and that that was a conversation for behind closed doors. So we’re here, behind closed doors.”

Remy sighed. “Dere ain’ much to say. Y’know, Remy asked you a bit about yo’self and you gave _some_ answers. You ain’ keen on sharin’, mon ami,” he said with a soft laugh. “You had it in fo’ Creed, an’ you were tryin’ to get Stryker too. He’s de guy who gave you de…” he tapped the back of his hand, referring to Logan’s claws. “Anyways, you said dat somet’in’ happened to yo’ girl, and you wanted to kill dem. Remy wanted ‘em dead too, so he agreed to take you to de Island.”

“Did I say anything else…?”

 _Other than the promise to stay beside me and come back for me after all of this was over?_ “Non, not really.”

“You’re lying.”

Remy blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I said, you’re lying. I can tell.” He narrowed his eyes at him. “Look, I need to know everything, and I need all the answers I can get.”

“Sorry, but dat’s all Remy’s got to share.”

“C’mon, you’ve gotta give me something—”

“Dat’s all Remy’s got, alrigh’?!” He suddenly snapped, and the moment he said it, he regretted it. Logan had moved back a bit, pulling away from Remy not only physically, but in every other way imaginable as well. It was the last thing Remy wanted, and here he was, causing it.

“Guess I’ll leave you alone, then.” Logan slid off the bed and walked out, shutting the door behind him firmly, making Remy throw himself back on the bed, covering his face with his hands in defeat.

\-----

It wasn’t until late the next evening that they spoke again. Remy had stayed out in the lounge area watching shows with the kids until Ororo had told them that it was getting late, and they should go to bed. They all pouted – even Remy, who clasped his hands and jutted his lip out for good measure – but it was no use. The kids cleared out, leaving Remy sprawled out on the couch, one leg extending clear across the cushions while his other foot was planted firmly on the floor. Even as the show continued on, Remy was barely watching. His mind was on other things, such as the man who apparently walked in without even being noticed.

“Mind movin’ your leg over? Other people may wanna sit too.”

Remy allowed a small smile. “Say de magic word and it’s all yo’s.”

“How does ‘I’ll chop your leg off if you don’t move it’ sound?”

“S’pose dat’s magic enough.” He sat upright and pulled his leg back, moving to the far end of the couch. Logan sat on the opposite side, and a tense silence fell over them. Remy wasn’t sure why Logan was here, but he didn’t really want to know why either. So, they sat, watching a show, but really spending most of it sparing careful looks at one another.

Finally, after a minute or two, Logan spoke up. “Look, I didn’t mean to keep prying like that.”

Remy shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Well, you didn’t _seem_ that fine yesterday.”

“Notin’ gets past you, eh?” Logan glared at him, but Remy ignored it.

“I’m tryin’ to apologize, okay?”

“You could say ‘sorry’ an’ be done wit’ dis a whole lot faster, non?”

Logan growled. “Do you always try to make things so damn difficult?”

“Whet’er o’ not it’s difficult is based on what you consider difficult, mon ami, but it ain’ difficult fo’ Remy.”

As much as Remy hoped Logan wouldn’t think that through too much, he did, and before he had a chance to add something else to dampen the insult, Logan had reached over and grabbed Remy by his collar, dragging him down onto the couch and pinning him there. “You listen well, kid, I don’t even give a shit what you know about me anymore, because I’m gonna gut you like a fish if you try and insult me ever again, you got that?”

Remy nodded hurriedly. “Oui.”

Logan stared down at him for a long time, likely trying to determine if Remy was telling the truth. While Logan debated with himself, Remy seemed more keen on thinking about the position they were in, how familiar it felt. It took all of his will not to at least try to think about the chance he would take by moving just a little bit underneath him, wondering if the friction would make Logan feel and do the same things he did when they were in the motel the night before the island. Before he could stop himself, he was biting his lower lip, his heart rate elevated and his body feeling warmer than before. Logan seemed to notice too.

“There it is again…” He said in a low voice.

“Wh-what?”

“This ain’t the first time I’ve smelled something like this before…”

“If dat’s some sort o’ pick-up line, Remy can give you pointers because dat was awful.”

Logan glowered at him, then shook his head. “No, whenever I’m with you, there’s always this… scent. I didn’t catch it at breakfast yesterday, but in your room I did, and now here…”

Remy couldn’t even think of anything to say to that; he swallowed thickly, pointedly not meeting Logan’s eyes and attempting as best he could to sink lower into the couch. But of course, the world was against him, and he could’ve sworn he felt Logan coming even closer, his body pinning him there for reasons other than keeping him in place. Remy closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away, not wanting Logan to find out like this. Remy didn’t want to be another experiment. He wanted Logan to want it as much as he did, and if he was only testing a theory, then Remy wasn’t gonna have it.

“You made yo’ point, now get off. Yo’ heavy.”

Logan remained for a few seconds before sitting up and getting off of the couch. Remy stood as well, dusting himself off, muttering something about getting the dog fur off of him before turning on his heel and walking out hastily. Logan watched him, unsure what it all meant, now that he was damned sure that he knew what Remy had been feeling.

\-----

They didn’t speak about what had happened or act any differently around one another for the next few days. Remy kept to himself around Logan, spending time with Ororo and getting to know some other mutants as well. He took a real liking to Jubilee, who always loved to hear about Remy’s exciting thieving adventures in curious places. When Logan finally found it within himself to push aside what had happened and approach Remy again, he was outside in the open field, sitting on a bench on his own. Again, he was playing cards, and Logan saw it as a good way to actually find some way he could get a little closer to Remy. Not that he had to, but maybe if they became somewhat friends, Logan could get more information on what happened.

He stood by the bench Remy had his cards spread out on, casting a shadow over them. “Know a good game for two people?”

Remy looked up at him, shrugging. “You got mo’ dan seventeen bucks dis time?”

“Nope.”

“Well, we jus’ gon’ have to find somet’in’ else to play.” He took all of the cards and restacked them, beginning to shuffle them. “Got anyt’in’ in mind?”

“I don’t really play card games that much…” Logan admitted, sitting down on the bench, leaving some space between them. “What about Go Fish?”

Remy stopped his shuffling. “… Go Fish?” He didn’t seem that impressed.

“Yeah.” Logan raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to say something else. Finally, Remy sighed and started dealing out the cards. “Very well, we’ll play dat.”

They took their cards and Logan went first, going back and forth, Logan getting almost no matches and Remy miraculously getting every single pairing within one or two guesses. The game was over quickly, and Logan had just three pairs while Remy had the other eighteen. Logan cursed profusely afterwards, but Remy patted him on the shoulder. “Don’ worry, it jus’ takes practice. Besides, dat was jus’ Remy goin’ easy on you.”

“You’re bluffing.”

The next game was zero pairs for Logan, twenty-one for Remy.

“Maybe there’s something else I’ll be better at...”

“O’ course,” Remy said, but Logan knew he was teasing. Remy dealt the cards again, this time setting up another game of solitaire between them. Logan figured he’d learn how to play by watching Remy. While Remy set up, his mind wandered again to the night before where Remy was laying beneath him, smelling distinctly of desire. Logan had thought about it all night after he’d left the room, sure that it had to do with why Remy was hesitant to talk about what happened at the motel.

“Still don’t wanna tell me about what happened at the motel?” He asked, trying his luck with upfront questions. Remy gave him a look that clearly read ‘obviously not’ and Logan sighed. “I’m not trying to pry. Well, no, I _am,_ but…” He shook his head. “All I know is, I wake up, and suddenly I’m this guy at a destroyed power plant thing with metal claws and bones and I don’t age that fast. I’ve been alive for a long time, and no one can tell me why, or how, and I haven’t come across anyone who can tell me who I am. I wake up, and I’m alone.”

“You weren’ alone.”

Logan looked at Remy; somehow, he knew he wasn’t done speaking, so he remained quiet.

“Remy was dere. Remy told you to follow him because he was gon’ take you away from de Island. But you said you’d find yo’ own way.” Remy was focused intently on the cards, placing them down harder than before. “He was dere, but dat didn’ matter.”

“No, it… it does. _Now_ it does. You’re, well… you’re the only person I’ve got.” He shrugged, but Remy froze completely, eyes locked on Logan.

He said something almost entirely similar during the night they spent together. He told Remy that he was all he had. They would stick together. They needed one another. After all, they were both alone, and sometimes a pack was all you needed. Remy had never before thought about being side-by-side with someone, but when Logan said it, he couldn’t deny how tempting it was.

Logan tilted his head curiously. Remy had been quiet for a few minutes. “Remy?”

“Desole,” Remy said, brought out of his thoughts. He forced himself to continue placing the cards down. “S’pose yo’ right.”

“So… how ‘bout it?”

“Well,” Remy started. “’Bout seven o’ dose hours were spent sleepin’.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Other than that.”

“Remy went to fill de plane wit’ gas. Hadn’ been used in a while, to be honest.”

“That couldn’t have taken long.”  Remy shrugged, and Logan let out a long breath. “I wanna know, Remy, so can you just… give me something?”

Remy leaned back and sighed, looking out towards the grassy field. “Logan, in trut’… you wouldn’ wanna know.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that for myself?”

“Because Remy knows. Now, he knows. After seein’ you again, tellin you dese t’ings… Remy don’ t’ink it’s in yo’ best interest.”

“And what makes you an expert in what’s in my best interest?” Logan felt rage build up inside of him, and this time he couldn’t keep it in. “I wake up, and I know _nothing._ I’ve got dog tags that tell me my name, and that’s it. I fine out I’ve got some metal skeleton when I punch a guy in the chest and his ribcage breaks. I see these claws come out for the first time when someone tries to rob me and I nearly cut him open on accident. I’ve got a whole life before that Island, a whole goddamn life, and not _one person_ can tell me who I am or where I came from, because it’s either I don’t know who I’m looking for, or who I’m looking for is _dead!_ ” He took a shuddering breath, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “All I need is _one answer_ , Remy, and that’s _it._ That’s all I need. Then I’ll drop it, I’ll leave you alone, I won’t ask again… _Anything_ could trigger something.”

Remy had kept his head low, having only looked up once to see the pain, confusion, and utter vulnerability that Logan was feeling in his expression. He opened his mouth to respond, holding his breath for a long time before saying, “Remy… Remy jus’ don’ t’ink dis could be—”

“I don’t _care_ , okay?! I want to know!!”

Remy flinched – jerked, more like – and closed his eyes, his hand gripping the edge of the bench beneath him tightly until his knuckles were white. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and finally relented. If Logan wanted to know, then he would know.

“When we went to de motel… you were…” He shook his head, reassuring himself; Logan wanted this, and Remy couldn’t get out of it. It was the only option. “You wanted Remy.”

Logan’s anger faded instantly, and his blood went cold. He stared wide-eyed at Remy, unsure of what to think or say.

Remy spared a fleeting glance at Logan, but seeing his confusion only made his throat close tighter. His gaze was back on the cards in front of them instantly. “Remy’s got dis t’ing, where… he can take in de emotions o’ ot’ers. Remy wanted you too, and wanted to know if de feelin’ was mutual. As soon as he felt it… he knew you did. So, we went to de motel, an’… pretty sure you can figure out de rest...”

It all clicked into place; Remy’s behavior, his hesitance to talk about it, everything. It all made sense. Logan shifted uncomfortably, and he knew Remy could see it easily.

“Well, Remy’s gon’ guess dat it didn’ trigger not’in’. So…” He shrugged helplessly. “… guess dat didn’ work out, huh?” When Logan remained quiet, Remy made a small noise. “T’ought so. S’pose Remy’ll see you around den.” He gathered up his cards and stood. Logan felt a strange sensation to go after him. He didn’t know where it came from, but the obvious fact that Remy was in pain at his response – or lack thereof – also made his own chest ache. He couldn’t simply let him walk away again.

“Remy, don’t leave like that again.”

He looked back at Logan. “What else? You can’ tell Remy dat yo’ somehow still comfortable wit’ sittin’ wit’ him after what he told you all dat.”

“Well… I…”

“Remy’ll see you.” He continued walking, yet again leaving Logan behind. Again, he left him with a lot to think about, as he always did. This time however, Logan had no more questions for Remy; only himself.

\-----

It was 2:37 in the morning. Logan drank a cold beer slowly, fighting back the memories of his recent nightmare. He was remembering some things, little bits and pieces. None of the quite made sense though, and only served to frustrate him more. There was gunfire, screaming, and people were falling all around him. Then he was being submerged, and he felt his body jerk in resistance, but he could never escape, could never _breathe_. Finally he was held down by a man with a wicked face, his expression cruel and his words harsh. He was going to kill him, going to take away everything precious and kill them too. Somehow, his mind went to Remy, and he felt fear. The man severed Logan’s claws and left him screaming in pain, and finally he woke up, claws let out as he continued to scream into the emptiness of his room.

He came down to the kitchen to get a drink as he always did, now confused whether he drank to remember or drank to forget. He wished he could select: remember who he was, how he became the way he did, and forget the terrible memories, the memories where he was always so close to death, always in severe pain. The only ones he ever managed to remember.

After a half hour or quiet thinking, he heard footsteps nearby; they sounded erratic and as if the person was tripping over themselves. They grew nearer and nearer until finally a man entered the room, and Logan was astonished at the sight.

Remy came into view in the doorway, his hair tangled and his eyes wide with horror. He was breathing deeply, and as hard as he tried to compose himself, he still let out something that was disguised as a cough but was very similar to a sob. Even after he entered the kitchen, he didn’t quite seem to register that Logan was there until he leaned against the wooden door frame and closed his eyes, steadying himself and taking two slow, deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, he jumped and made a small surprised sound.

Logan jumped a little too, but he was more relaxed, looking him over with concern and confusion. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze for a moment, only meeting Remy’s wild eyes as he extended the beer towards him. “You look like you need one of these.”

Remy stared at the bottle before he reached out and took it, downing it in a series of gulps. Logan frowned when he drank the remaining contents of the bottle, but seeing Remy lean against the countertop and sigh shakily, he forgot his lost drink. “You okay…?”

Remy merely shook his head. After a moment or two though, he straightened. He nodded, though it seemed more to himself. “Oui,” he said, his voice hoarse. He finally looked at Logan properly, then asked, “What abou’ you?”

Logan shrugged, being honest. “I could be better.” He stood from the chair he was sitting in and pulled out another one, patting it; a clear invitation for Remy to join him. He opened the fridge and reached into the very back, pushing aside the soda and juice pouches to grab two more beers. He handed one to Remy as he passed him, and sat back in his seat.

Remy waited a few moments before moving, walking around the table and sliding in the chair beside him. “You don’ look… Remy don’ know… you make it sound like dis ain’ new to you.”

“It’s not. I have nightmares a lot. I never know what they are, though.” He opened his beer, then opened Remy’s. “I get them here and there. They never make sense, though.”

“You ever write dem down? Maybe it’ll trigger somet’in’ up here.” He tapped his temple, taking a long swig of his beer afterwards.

“Never really considered that…” He glanced over at him. “Why, have you ever done that?”

“Non,” Remy said quietly. “Remy knows what his nightmares are about.”

“And… what’s that…?”

Remy was silent for a few moments. “Creed.”

“Creed? Victor? You told me he took you, right? He took you in to Stryker?”

“Oui. But Victor didn’ just take Remy in. He…” He sighed and shook his head. “Let’s jus’ say dat Victor was fond o’ Remy. Fond o’ folllowin’ t’rough wit’ Stryker’s demands. T’ough, he always t’ought dat Remy never behaved, since he was tryin’ to escape all de time. De ot’er mutants quit, but Remy never did. Victor almost always caught him, t’ough…” He stared straight ahead, his eyes unfocused, but they shined more so than they had just seconds ago. “Always made him pay fo’ it…”

Logan’s heart sank, and a knot tied itself in his stomach. Tentatively, he reached out and rested a hand on Remy’s back, testing the waters. Remy’s shoulders tensed briefly, but they quickly relaxed afterwards, and Logan started rubbing circles into it, which he somehow knew would soothe Remy. Remy’s hand tightened around the glass bottle he held, his fingers slightly glowing with the kinetic energy he was trying to restrain. Logan rubbed a bit harder, and Remy closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply.

“He’ll always remember it. Even if you’d killed Creed, he’ll always… he’ll always have de nightmares…”

Logan had never seen Remy so vulnerable before. Carefully, his arm extended out and his hand was clasped over his furthest shoulder, also rubbing it gently. Watching Remy’s expression closely, Logan pulled, and Remy easily followed the movement and was resting right in Logan’s open arm, his eyes fluttering closed. Logan rested his chin over Remy’s head and held him close.

They didn’t speak for a long time, but Logan didn’t think about that; they didn’t need to speak. Right now, they had the comfort of one another. Logan felt a sense of relief, glad that Remy still welcomed his attempts at befriending him, despite all that he’d said to him over the time he was here.  He figured it likely had to do with the fact that Remy was still holding out for Logan to remember him, remember what they shared. A part of Logan wished he remembered as well.

“I’m sorry,” he said, angling his head to his nose was buried in Remy’s disheveled hair.

“Sorry don’ fix t’ings,” Remy replied, his voice shaky. “Sorry’s just a pretty word that tries to make de messes go away.”

Logan thought about what he said, feeling the same; people always told him they were sorry. Sorry he lost his memories, sorry they couldn’t help him. It never helped, it didn’t change anything. Yet they all still said it. He didn’t have to think much about why, though. “You’re right,” he said, “but sorry means that I care, Remy.”

Remy pulled back to look up at him a little, focused intently on his face, his eyes slowly wandering down over his chest and his torso, then back up again. His expression softened and he leaned against him again, this time burying his face into his shoulder, one arm snaking around him carefully. “Remy knows dat now,” Remy murmured, and little did Logan know, Remy could feel his sympathy and his caring. Letting his shields down was always dangerous, but sometimes knowing the truth was a reward enough.

“You don’t have to do this alone, either,” Logan continued, stroking his back again. “You can stay here. Packs stick together, after all.”

Remy pulled back sharply this time, jerking away so quickly that Logan’s jaw snapped shut painfully. “What did you say?” He asked suddenly, and Logan rubbed his jaw, shaking his head a little, confused.

“Packs stick together?”

Remy’s jaw dropped and he looked right into Logan’s eyes, reaching out and grasping his face gently in his hands. He knew, deep down, how easy it would have been to kiss him, to tell him that he remembered, that he still had _something_ from that night, but he restrained himself. He sighed softly, calming himself down, and finally smiled. “Dey do, cher,” he said softly. He leaned in close, but pressed his forehead against Logan’s, then pulled back again to bury his face back into the curve of his neck.  This time both arms went around him, and Logan never pulled away. It was all the more blissful to Remy, who closed his eyes again with a smile on his face. “Dey really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Started out as a 100 word max prompt. Turned into a 13 page monster.


End file.
